


I'm Coming for You

by BabyBoyBolide



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Angst, Bakery AU, Bullemia (David), Depression, Malnourishment, Other, Sad, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBoyBolide/pseuds/BabyBoyBolide
Summary: David wasn't ready.Max wasn't either- until he got the news.





	I'm Coming for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dontcherryme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcherryme/gifts).



> This doesn't have to be Maxvid guys. I guess maybe there's suggestions of them crushing? Idfk. This was short and sad.

David had seen this coming for a long time. He shouldn't have dated Daniel. That was the worst mistake of his life. His ex boyfriend had always been finicky about what the redhead ate, when, and how _often._ David wasn't _ready_ to die. If he could, he would cry. The ginger could feel the bile rising up in his throat from having no food for a few days. He had spent all of his money on bills and rent right after pay day. It was shocking when Cameron fired him out of the blue. Of course, it was for someone who would work for cheaper.

 

His vision was blurred. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Gotten up to get a drink? David didn't know. The only times he'd gotten up were to take a piss, and really, his legs were too shaky to even do that anymore. This was bullshit. He had _just_ started to get better. Max had been making him lunch every day before he got fired. How long ago was that now? One week? Two? He'd lost count. If he hadn't dropped his phone and broken it, he'd probably ask the teen to drop by his place with one of his nice peanut butter sandwiches and some apples.

 

Finally, his eyes fluttered closed. He just couldn't take this anymore. It just hurt so much. His body was limp and weak. The heavy sensation in his chest with each breath he took only weighed him down even more. That is- until he took his last breath. Then, he was as light as a feather as he felt himself drift into sleep.

 

\---

 

The first day David didn't show up to the shop was a bit surprising. The man had been working there for a month or so, and they'd grown gather close during that time. Experiences and life stories were shared- they'd both learned that the other had PTSD (from different things, of course), learned that the other was the closest thing they had to a real friend. It was the first day the ginger didn't show up for work.

 

The second day had Max’s gut sinking a little. David had always been a little on the skinnier side, and he'd seen himself the way David would barely pick at the pastries he'd occasionally buy for lunch. Maybe he had gotten sick?

 

On the third day, Max didn't bother eating the donuts he normally shared with the man. Instead, he merely sipped from his flask, savoring the flavor of the whiskey inside. Jack Daniel’s honey whiskey was his favorite. David knew that.

 

Finally, when the fourth day arrived, the brunet had grown irritated. He was tired and restless. He hadn't spoken in days. Why would he? The ginger baker was the only person he'd talked to other than Cameron, the owner of the bakery.

 

For nine more days, Maxwell continued to walk the mile to the bakery, hoping to see his ginger friend again. Of course, nothing had happened. David didn't show up. He didn't leave a text or call for the teen. By this point, Max had sent multiple messages himself to the man, and even called him multiple times. Though, after about say 2 of calling, it always went straight to voicemail, like the man had never turned it on in the mornings.

 

By the time the fourteenth day had rolled around, the sixteen year old didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Having dropped out of school, Max didn't have anything to do during the day without the stupid cashier around. He growled inwardly at the though. Why wouldn't David just… _Fucking text him back?_ Didn't he know how _worried_ Max was?

 

On and on this went. Each day, the brunet had less and less energy to get out of bed. He'd get up on occasion to get something to drink- usually whiskey- and immediately crawl into bed again. He'd even been skipping most of his meals. Not like his parents cared. The only constant in his life was reading the newspapers in the morning. He'd even stopped cleaning the house. (Which is a habit he developed when he was especially stressed.) He tried it one day, but it just… Didn't work like it use to. He didn't feel at ease as he watched the hardwood floors become clean, or the windows shine. Instead, he felt his gut sink each time he saw his reflection.

 

\---

 

It had been just over a month now. The teen’s brows furrowed at the thought as he walked along the dirt trail that led to the boat dock. David’s death had finally reached the paper after he was found in his apartment after nearly a month of rotting there, alone. The lake nearby had some of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. Truthfully, he had always wanted to swim in it, but it was for boating only. That had always made him disappointed. It was beautiful and… Decently clear. Enough to see most of the wish and plant life in the light blue and green ripples.

 

The forest life leading up to the lake was just as beautiful. The beautiful earthy browns and greens that led way to a bright opening in front of the few boats by the large pool of water. For a second, he'd stopped on the dirt road to think about it. Maybe he should do it here? No. It was beautiful, but wasn't what he wanted to see.

 

Most people don't get to see what they want when they die. Some people are forced to look at an oncoming semi, or the face of their rapist- not Max. Max wasn't going to be one of those people. See, Maxwell had always wanted to feast his eyes on the most beautiful thing he could think of. So, he decided, that he would. The brunet wasn't going to look into the eyes of his murderer, or an oncoming train- He wanted to be right where he and David hung out on their sad days to cheer themselves up.

 

Finally, looking up, he realized he'd arrived. None of the boats were out of the dock yet. It was barely 6am. Smiling to himself, the sixteen year old began his quest. Slowly, he gripped the knot of what had always been his favorite tree. He'd been climbing it since he was young.

 

It took him about six or so minutes to make it to a higher branch. Ten feet should be enough. He wasn't even 5’8”. Surely they'd be able to recover him from here. Placing his bottom on the branch, he bounced slightly. Yup. It was thick, strong, firm- perfect.

 

Slowly, the teen leaned forward, lifting up the edge of his hoodie. Cautiously, he looked around, not wanting this to be ruined by someone deciding to come out for an early ride. Sure enough, all he could hear was the chirping of insects and birds. David had always said it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard whenever they came. They'd always sit under this exact tree.

 

With caution, the teen took his time to unwrap the rope from around his waist. That was the easiest way to hide it as he snuck out of the house. After a few moments, it had come completely undone and fell loose in his hands. A handmade noose. He looked down at it fondly. This was the one thing that could help him see his friend again.

 

It didn't take very long for him to tie the loose end around the thick branch. It took up more of the rope than expected- he'd only had a few inches left out of the foot he'd planned to have. Looks like he'd be going slower than he wanted. Then again, it'd only give him more time to see the beautiful sun rising over the horizon, the soft pastel colours shining off of the water. He turned around.

 

Max wrapped the tied end around his neck and slowly grabbed on to the tree with all of his limbs as he slowly turned himself upside down on the branch. Slowly, he let his legs go, holding on with only his hands. Soon, those too let go. The drop was only a few inches. He didn't have very much rope to work with.

 

The pressure was painful, but maybe he deserved it for pushing everyone he loved away. Hell, if David would have magically came into the bakery one day after he'd vanished, Max would have probably yelled at him and pushed him away, too. Just because he was selfish and felt so alone.

 

His lungs burned, craving oxygen as his vision went bleary. The colours started to blend together after a moment, and he could feel tears of pain rush down his cheeks. Not too long after those came tears of joy. Max would be able to see David again. This was what he wanted.

 

For the past month, all the boy could wonder; _Do you miss me too?_

 

Finally, his body had stopped its quaking that had begun a while ago, shaking the branch and the leaves on it.

  
_I'm coming for you._


End file.
